Q Clear

The sun goes down
just now
slowly, slowly, slowly,
even for this winter day:
nearly red, red.

It is clear,
so we think:
"Dare I stare
into its face?"

Now, too, the sun pulls up
the moon;
white more than once for each of us,
tonight we know
it is to be red,
very, very red;

There where you, here where I, breathe;
here where I take in all the breath of yours I can;
there where you take in what you can of mine;
the winter distance helps show it to us.

The sun and the moon
will not let clearness
turn our eyes away.

So we know,
as we will see
the very red moon
become the most blazing, yet softest white
any could ever know:

"I want to stare
into those eyes
you are holding open for me
to walk through,
in the light of
every moon, every sun, every season,
as long as we both breathe."

Copr. 2000
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